


Everything a Big Bad Wolf Could Want

by looselipsandfreudianslips



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Daddy Kink, Drugged Sex, Drunk Sex, Explicit Drug Use, F/M, Insecurity, Masturbation, Mild Knifeplay, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, PIV, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, References to Dubcon, Songfic, Spanking, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/looselipsandfreudianslips/pseuds/looselipsandfreudianslips
Summary: Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, you sure are looking good - you're everything a big bad wolf could want.As it turned out, one idle hand could be the devil’s plaything just as easily as two. Before the world had gone to hell, spending time by himself up a tree would have been more Daryl’s type of thing than his own – but out here, alone, he could finally breathe. And it was there in the deer blind he first saw her. He'd been watching Red for weeks, telling himself what a good girl she probably was - but Red wasn't as pure as he thought.(I'm not great at summaries - it's porn with partying.)
Relationships: Merle Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Everything a Big Bad Wolf Could Want

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there Little Red Riding Hood  
> You sure are looking good  
> You're everything a big bad wolf could want  
> Listen to me  
> Little Red Riding Hood  
> I don't think little big girls should  
> Go walking in these spooky old woods alone  
> ~~~
> 
> Just some Merle Dixon smut I had stuck in my head, knocking around for a week or two. Very little plot, set between S3E11 and S3E15 some time. Contains explicit cocaine use and drinking - if this bothers you, skip it.
> 
> The story isn't beta read, although I've proofread it myself quite a bit. I don't own any part of The Walking Dead, but Red/Giselle is an OC with an extensive backstory I came up with on my own, although you learn almost nothing about her here.
> 
> Edit to add: hey! I don't know about the rest of you, but I _love_ character and fandom playlists. Here's one I made for [Merle](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5KbEcJ54PUZ2j6ozcXzbLD?si=MO9IpzWQSNKcbkc29BGr5g) on Spotify.

As it turned out, one idle hand could be the devil’s plaything just as easily as two.

The group pussyfooting around at the prison, sitting on their damned hands instead of attacking Woodbury, struck a special kind of place between boring and nerve-wracking that set Merle’s teeth on edge. With Officer Friendly and company hawking him at every turn and the rest of the damned goody-goodies all up in his business, he was damn near suffocating. Nary a thing to keep him occupied or entertained did neither a mind nor a body good. He’d begun taking to the woods to scavenge what he could, but no one trusted him with a rifle outside of the prison and the deer blind he’d found had been picked clean.

Before all of this, spending time by himself up a tree would have been more Daryl’s type of thing than his own – but out here, alone, he could finally breathe. And it was there in the blind he first saw her.

The footsteps had been too quiet to be a walker and too loud to be anything but human. Rather than give away his position, he’d peered down out of the blind to see a girl just too damned sweet looking to be an unescorted newbie from Woodbury – no way his one-time lord and master would have let her out of his sight. Short, fair of skin with hair like cornsilk and less meat on her bones than ran to Merle’s tastes before pickings got slim, she wore a stained red sweatshirt with a hood despite the Georgia heat and in his mind she became Red.

If it had been before all of this he would have made a move. Called out to her, told her she had lips like candy and he wanted a taste. Hell, if it was a month or three ago he would have made a move more physical; maybe pushed her until she was aware of how she wanted him. But damn, if his baby brother hadn’t gotten in his head. So instead he found himself watching her on her trips past the blind; watched her kick around the clearing, gathering apples and setting traps for squirrels and birds. Red moved with certainty and assuredness, those steady little hands bending back saplings and later collecting her prizes. Never much; it didn’t look like she was trapping for a group, but there was no way to be certain. With his brother and some of the other men bringing back kills, there was no reason to give himself away by raiding her traps – he was all set to just watch.

And watch, he had been. Watched those slender, pale legs peeking out from the little skirt she wore beneath her hoodie. Studied the barely-there curve of those mosquito-bite titties and admired the way her little white tank top would strain in one motion and billow out in the next as she worked her traps. Pathetic as it was, clumsily pulled his zipper down and his cock out and told himself stories in his head about how innocent she must be, how lonely, how that pretty mouth might feel wrapped around his dick as he stroked it good and slow with his graceless left hand and lamented the loss of his right.

It was an indecent, if entertaining way to pass the time while Rick’s group talked shit about him back at the prison. Had been going on for a couple of weeks when little Red proved herself to be a good deal less innocent than the stories he’d been telling himself.

While he’d seen her eyeing the peach tree across the clearing from his, assessing the fruit for ripeness much the way he did to her, she’d never looked up at the deer blind he surveyed her from and that had made him more comfortable watching for her approach. She moved with the sunshine, coming into the clearing about an hour or two after the light had hit its hottest point for the day most days. Today he’d heard her from further off than usual, her footsteps louder and more erratic. Maybe she was packing something heavy; oftentimes she had a pack with her, occasionally with kills from traps she had to have set further away. Merle had his cock out at the sound of her; it’d been a couple of days since he’d had the chance to engage in this dirty little ritual and he’d missed it. Was cursing his left hand and grieving the right again as he failed to get a decent rhythm going. Licked his palm and massaged just the head for a moment as the first scarlet glimpses of her appeared in the trees. No pack, just the little satchel his good girl always had when she left the bigger bag behind.

There was color high in her cheeks, a pink tinge he’d never seen before that complimented that ragged crimson and those big grey eyes mighty well. Her mouth seemed pinker, too, and her gait unsteady. She didn’t check her traps before unexpectedly sinking down to the forest floor at the center of the clearing. Unzipped her jacket to reveal a new shirt, this one brighter white than the last, and he could see she’d scrounged some new boots, too. He sank an inch or two lower to get a better vantage and could see right up that tiny little skirt she had on – see that, much to his delight, she had on panties that matched the color her hoodie must have been when it was new. Stroked himself with renewed vigor and repressed a frustrated grunt.

Red took a few things out of her bag. Two little plastic packages and a lighter and – my, my – a handle of vodka. Ripped the packages both open and planted a candle in a cupcake, lit it up. Took something tiny out of her pocket along with a little knife. Merle watched, confused by the familiar movements in this context. She opened up a teeny tiny baggie, less than the size of her palm, and scooped something out of it with the tip of her knife. Brought the blade up to her nose in a practiced motion and snorted the powder off of it before repeating the action on the other side. Cracked the bottle of vodka and took a deep swig, then swiped a little powder over her gums.

Little Red wasn’t so damned pure as she seemed. She picked up the cupcake and took a deep breath; before she could blow it out he gave into impulse and stood up, his erection concealed below the level of the blind’s window. Wolf-whistled, loud enough he was sure she could hear.

“Damn, Red. And here _I_ was, takin’ you for a good girl.” She flinched violently, dropped the cupcake and stamped out the tiny flame. Had a much larger knife in her hand by the time he tore down out of the deer blind, cock still hanging out the fly of his jeans. “Now, now. Don’t be like that, sugar. I ain’t nothin’ t’ worry about, just curious about the occasion for your little party. Looks like your birthday, huh?”

If from far away she was a vision, up close she could have been an angel. Dirty and a little ragged, but still an angel. “You were watching me?” She didn’t sound like she was from Georgia, or for that matter anywhere in the South. She was backing up, little baggie and complimenting knife tucked away but the booze still on the ground.

Merle cracked a sheepish grin. “Just so, Red, but don’t hold it against me; you’re a damn sight for sore eyes, ‘n the middle of all this shit.” Her gaze strayed to his prosthesis, just capped for now with the knife back up in the blind. Took in his cock, still hard and visible. Those large eyes widened a shade further and he could see in her face she wanted to run, might never come back to this place. “Can y’ blame a dirty old man? ‘f I’d known it was your birthday, woulda got you somethin’ nice, but would you really give a man like me the time of day even if I had?” She took a faltering step back and he stepped forward, grabbed the handle off the ground. “Mighta made you ruin your cake, but you want this, don’tcha?” He took a sip. Lucky thing, that she’d left it uncapped.

“I guess.” There was a second cupcake in the package, and plenty more candles. He reached down and grabbed the candles, too, awkward as hell to his own mind with just his left hand. She reached for them, but when she got close he held them away. In the distance, he could hear shuffling – his whistle had attracted the attention of walkers. Red’s head whipped toward the sound and he studied the line of her neck appreciatively. Skinny thing, all angles, but damn fine to look at.

“Don’t think them’s the kind of guests you want at your party,” he drawled. “But there’s room for one more up in the blind, if you’re still tryin’ to celebrate.” Chances were, whatever it happened to be in that little bag would have her craving company and conversation – and, he hoped, maybe feeling a might forgiving for his current exposure.

She looked back up at him, pretty pink tongue darting out to moisten her lips. The walkers were getting closer, and it didn’t sound like an especially small amount of them. “I don’t know about partying, but I don’t see much choice in joining you.” She snatched the cupcake and bottlecap off the ground and looked at him expectantly. When he didn’t hand the handle back she sighed and stalked over to the tree, climbing nimbly up. Before the chance to see more of what was up her skirt passed, he followed.

And what a sight it was. Red had gone all out for her birthday, it seemed; her clothes were cleaner than he’d seen them, and as she’d rarely paused to sit in the woods and he’d never seen what she had on underneath her skirt before but he doubted satin was her day to day. Satin panties were something women reserved for special occasions, at least in his experience. “Little help, sugar?” She turned around and took the handle and plastic packet of candles from him, then kept climbing. The contrast of pale thighs and crimson satin had his flagging erection headed back up to half-mast, but given the situation he took a quick second to stuff it back into his pants before following her into the blind. He could be a gentleman when the circumstances called for it. As soon as he was in, she slotted the wooden board into place on top of the cutout that allowed them entrance and opened up her satchel to stuff the remaining cupcake and candles back in. Took the bag off and set it beside her. “So what’s your name, sweetness?”

“Red’s just fine. Yours?” Her tone was hushed but she looked jittery, pulling her jacket tightly around her and keeping those wide eyes on him. There was the slightest smear of white powder on her upper lip and his curiosity about the contents of that little bag redoubled. Didn’t look like the type to partake in crystal, which was a shame, but the whole damn thing made her more intriguing.

He cracked a grin. “’f you’re Red, then I guess I must be the Big Bad Wolf.” It was cheesy as all hell, but if the situation called for it, it called for it. She shocked him with a small smile edged with irritation.

“Fine. It’s Giselle. I’m not going to call you anything like that.”

“Merle Dixon.” He held out his hand and when she took it, yanked her closer to plant a kiss on the back of hers. She yelped and glared daggers at him when he shushed her. It was a calculated risk, as it drew the geeks outside closer, but it meant she’d be stuck with him a while longer. Her hand was clean and smelled like heaven; in addition to all her other little treats for herself it seemed she’d scrubbed up, maybe even put on a little something to soften her skin and make it smell nice. “You always celebrate your birthday alone, Giselle?” He rolled the sensation of her name around in his mouth and licked his lips. “Damn, that feels good on the tongue.” He kept his voice just a hair above a whisper, ensuring she’d need to keep close to hear him and that it wouldn’t draw more walkers below.

She readjusted from the position he had pulled her into, tucking her legs beneath her. “We all end up alone out here, eventually.” There was a haunted note to her tone and he nodded along. Jerked his chin towards the handle and raised a pleading brow. She sighed, uncapped it and took a swig, then passed it to him. From below, the walkers sounded like they were grouped beneath the tree, scratching at the oaken trunk and clawing at the boards nailed to it. They wouldn’t be able to climb it; hell, they had trouble with ladders, let alone setups like this one. “How about you? Are you alone?”

“Not anymore,” he said with another grin. Truth be told he felt more alone at the prison than he had for most of his life; Daryl had wanted him back but the boy had changed too much to accept him. Expected Merle to change, too. He knew his brother had pushed Rick and the others to their breaking points to have him there, and that leaving now would be the dick move of the century. One his brother would never forget, never forgive. One he’d never forgive himself for, either. The kid got antsy enough when Merle came out here. Officer Friendly claimed they’d come back for him after leaving him back in Atlanta, but being left to cook and then be eaten up on that roof was horseshit, regardless of what they’d done to try and make themselves feel better after. “So what’s that you have in your pocket, girlie?”

Giselle scoffed. “My, what big eyes you have.” While her tone was mocking, he didn’t find himself annoyed – she’d said she wasn’t going to call him Big Bad, but the reference was cute enough. She fished around in her pocket for a moment before pulling out the baggie, the pocketknife. “Coke.” A scarce beat of silence, a sigh. “You want some?”

Now that he thought on it, she looked like the cocaine type. “Sure.” She looked at his prosthesis again, weighing her options. “Not too keen on you holdin’ that knife up t’ my face, girlie.” After a moment she poured a generous amount onto her own left hand and held it up in front of his nose. He covered his left nostril and took the bump, then gave her an expectant look. She made an irritated face and they repeated the operation again on the other side and she let him have a little to rub into his gums, as she’d done back in the clearing. “Where’d y’ find this shit? Ain’t half bad.” Almost no burn, just a numbing sensation. Didn’t seem too stepped on, nor as weak as he’d come to expect in this neck of the woods. The geeks outside kept up their racket, cries turning frustrated.

“Hotel back in Atlanta. After everything went bad, I figured I might as well check all the hotels I could, see what I could find.” She took a little more for herself, too, still using the pocketknife. He could feel the rush coming on, pulling the blood away from his extremities and into his chest and head. Fought the urge to let out a whoop. Might not be his favorite, but this stuff wasn’t bad at all. “The keycards from the cleaning carts get you into all the rooms, so early on I saw a chance to get ahold of some decent bargaining chips. Surprising, what people bring into hotels.” The vodka and blow were loosening her tongue a little, and she stuck close to him so they could keep their voices down. He couldn’t resist touching the ragged edge of one of the knee socks she had on and she didn’t bat his hand away.

“Find any crystal?”

She shrugged, but he could see disappointment in her face. “I did. Traded some for the big knife, a lot more of it to get myself out of a situation I didn’t want to be in.” Merle found himself surprised she’d traded it and been able to leave, anyways; tweakers weren’t known for their good faith in keeping deals. He took another swig of vodka. “So what about you? You’re not living in this blind.”

There wasn’t much up here; his canteen and the knife attachment for his prosthetic, a pistol, a little food he’d stashed for while he spent time up here and a paperback or two. “Nah. Spent some time in Atlanta myself. Found a group or two.”

She didn’t press him for information about that. “What were you doing, before all of this?”

“This ‘n that. Was in the service for a while, when I got back me ‘n my little bro worked on bikes, mostly. You?”

“I was in school. Worked as a waitress, sometimes. Stripped, sometimes.”

He let out a very low, quiet whistle. “Damn, Red. I been up here, thinkin’ you was a good girl.”

Her gaze was steady, her tone accusatory. “Yeah, you said that before. You’ve been watching me for a while, then.” A smirk crept over his face. “I’m really not. You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” There was a beat of silence and she lowered her lashes. Huffed out a breath.

Kissed him. Her mouth tasted like cocaine and vodka and a ghost of malt liquor, explaining the unsteadiness in her gait as she’d come into the clearing. He slipped his hand up under her hood and into her hair, feeling where she’d braided it. Sought the tie and loosed it. Her mouth opened under his and he swiped his tongue across her lower lip. She moaned softly and leaned closer, gripped his shoulders. A piercing he didn’t expect, hadn’t seen when she spoke, brushed over his tongue. _Fuck_. Little slut.

Beneath them, the walkers kept up their scratching and groaning as Giselle climbed up into his lap. He pushed her hood back and wrapped his arms around her, savoring the sweet smell of her hair. She broke the kiss to nip along his jawline up to his ear. “Li’l freak, aintcha?” The heat at the apex of her thighs teased his cock through his jeans and he could feel his loins beginning to stir again. “Wantin’ some dick for your birthday?” Her giggle in his ear made his head buzz better than the drugs and booze.

“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Dixon.” Those little hips rolled against his and he bit off a groan. Buried his face against her neck and placed wet, open mouthed kisses along the length of it. He could feel her heartbeat, fast and fluttering, under his mouth. Sucked and bit just below her ear and felt her slight weight go limp against him. She was moaning, her nails biting into the fabric of his overshirt. “How long have you been watching me, jerking off?”

“You actually wanna know, honey?”

“Yes.” He had no reason to doubt her; if the little lady threw down like this and wanted to fuck a stranger on her birthday in the middle of all the madness in this cruel world, she wasn’t likely to shy away from him just because he’d been watching her in the woods awhile.

“Been a couple weeks.” He pushed her back with his right forearm, wrapping his good arm around her. Laid her down on her back and kept macking on her neck. Buried his face against her collarbones. Women so thin had never been his type and he was still trying to get a feel for where to touch her, what to do without the curves to which he was accustomed. “Been comin’ into my hand thinkin’ of eating out that sweet little cunny. Can I take a line off your ass ‘fore I do?”

She made a quiet noise of frustration. “Am I supposed to believe you’ll make it worth my while?”

Merle chuckled at that. “Honey, I’ll make you scream. Gonna be a long damn time before we’re gonna be able to get down outta this tree.” She produced the bag and knife out of her pocket again and stripped off her skirt and boots, leaving on her ragged knee socks and those red satin panties. “Keep the jacket on, Little Red.”

She rolled and faced away from him, laying on her stomach. Every inch of her was tight, toned, thin. It wasn’t surprising, given she’d stripped and there wasn’t much food to go around anyhow, nowadays. He’d found the stock in skin clubs distasteful the last few years as it had waned to skinnier and skinnier but this right here was starting to feel like a little slice of heaven. Merle wrapped his right arm under her hips and hoisted her ass up in the air; Giselle kept her chest and forearms on the floor of the blind, the dusty ground dirtying up her hoodie worse. He dragged down her panties, admiring the sticky mess her soaked cunt had made of them. “Goddamn, girl. You’re drenched.” Poured himself out a pile of blow on one pale mound of flesh, with another on the other side and set the bag down next to her face. Scraped each pile into a line with the knife, drawing satisfying little noises of intermingled fear and arousal out of the object of his lust. The first rush hadn’t yet faded, but it was the end of the world and he wasn’t about to party as though he’d have another chance to. She was whining as he took in the sight of her and with that ass presented to him he could see between her lips where the pink bead of her clit was swollen and waiting. “Coke always make you this horny?”

“It’s been a long time.” He wrapped his right arm tighter under her thighs and took the first line. Gave her ass a little lick on his way over to the second and held her still as he did. Snorted the second and before the rush could hit slid his tongue over the length of her slit. “Ohhhh, fuck.” She was flying high and he didn’t know if he’d ever tasted something so sweet. Peaches and cream with a slight tang to it, that’s what the taste of her brought to mind. He slicked his tongue over his fingertips and then started to circle her clit with them, driving his tongue deep into her wetness. She was mewling, moaning, clawing at the floorboards as he found the rhythm she liked with his clumsy left hand. The rush hit him as her breath was starting to hitch more steadily and he moaned against her. When she squirmed harder at the sensation of his noise on her heat he added more sound to what he was doing and had her panting harshly a moment later. “I’m about to come – I – oh fuck, Merle!” Her hips bucked back against his mouth and he wrung every last moan out of her before she begged him for a moment to breathe. He didn’t let her go before rubbing the stubble of his beard over her sensitive clit and she yelped.

As soon as he let her go she collapsed to the floor, shaking with aftershocks. “That good, Giselle?” She rolled to her back, still panting and stared up at him. Those grey eyes had darkened with lust and she shoved her panties down further, kicking them off one foot. What a picture, color high in those pale cheeks while sunlight streamed down through the window of the blind. Where he’d loosed her hair from the tie it was unraveling from the braid, leaves in it from the floor, and her mouth was pink and full from where she’d bitten her lip. “My turn, now.”

“Can I take a line off your cock?”

“Be offended if you didn’t.” She sat forward to pull his piece out while he raised up higher onto his knees to get a better angle for her. Stroked it a time or two before pouring some powder onto it and cleaning up with her face, then took a fingerful for her gums. Nimble fingers undid his belt and pushed his pants down over his ass. She cupped his balls and gripped his shaft before wrapping those satiny lips around his cock. He growled out a breath and watched her work it. “Choke down on it, sugar, y’ ain’t gotta be gentle on me.” Her tongue massaged the underside of his head, and that piercing was pushing his mind into the clouds. “Goddamn.”

Before long she was pulling him into her throat and spit made its way underneath her fingers. The lubrication felt damn good, and that hand cupping his jewels was a prize. He groaned and fisted his hand in her hair. “’s good, baby, keep it goin’.” She took him far back enough she gagged and he grunted in pleasure. “Fuck, honey, just like that.” The hand on his balls stayed gentle as he used the hold on her hair to fuck her throat while her other hand choked down on his shaft. “Been thinkin’ about that mouth on my dick for weeks, y’ feel better n’ I ever thought y’ might, never coulda guessed you’d suck it this well.” She took the inspiration to heart and deepened the suction, her cheeks hollowing out. “Best grip the base, now, ‘r I’m gonna bust in your throat before I get t’ fuck you.” She obediently gripped him tight and Merle groaned long and low and loud before pulling her hair to get her to stop. She kept the root of his hard-on clenched tight and slicked her tongue in quick movements all the way down. “Goddamn, girl.” He was panting, his cock throbbing.

God, and when she looked up at him there were tears in her eyes. Only thing that could have made it better would have been smeared lipstick and running mascara and maybe some crystal, although the coke was doing a damn good job as a stand-in for his drug of choice. “You taste so damn good, Merle.” If people in hell wanted ice water, it sounded like the birthday girl had _needed_ this.

“Can’t taste half as good as you.” He stripped off his buttondown and tank top and kicked off his pants and she did away with her own shirt and jacket before grabbing the blanket and spreading it out on the floor. “Lookit you, nothin’ on but knee socks and them panties on your ankle. Feels like _my_ fuckin’ birthday, girl.”

She pounded a little more vodka and lay back with her legs already spread for him. Crooked her finger to him and held out the bottle. He took it from her, eyeing that lithe little body as he shot some back. Her form was growing on him, and damn if she didn’t look better the more roughed up he made her. He set the bottle down and pulled her across his lap in a rough movement. “How old are ya?”

“Old enough to know better, young enough to take it,” she giggled, squirming across his lap. The muscles of her taut stomach flexed across his thighs and his erection dug into her side.

“’f ya don’t tell me I’m just gonna spank your ass ‘til you scream.”

“Twenty-seven.” There was a breathless note to her voice, now. He rubbed his hand over her ass to wake the skin up to the beating he was about to give it, wishing he’d thought to eat it more while he was down there. Her slick was on her thighs, now – sucking his cock had gotten her even wetter than she had been.

The first strike was gentle, a continued ritual to warm up the skin. “You’re gonna count ‘em out for me, and at the end of this you’re gonna say ‘thank you, Daddy.’ You got that?” He slapped her ass again on the other side, a little harder this time. She flinched and moaned.

“Two! Yessir.”

And here, she was a _damn_ good girl. Each stroke across that tight little ass elicited some kind of noise, moans or squeals and eventually yelping little screams as he went harder, as well as a number. By the end of it she was shuddering, sobbing, her head down. “Th-thank you, Daddy.” He rubbed his hand over her now crimson ass and reveled in the continued shuddering and slicked his fingertips through her slit. Her clit was obscenely swollen and she mewled as he did it. “Are you still going to fuck me, Daddy?”

“You better believe it.” She rolled away, onto her back, and looked up at him. All through the spanking his cock had throbbed and by now it was damn near painful. Looking down into that sweet, tear-stained face made it no better. “Gonna wreck ya, girl. Look how much you’re makin’ me leak.” He slicked his hand over his erection, through the slippery trail of precum that had run in rivulets down the underside. It had dripped onto the blanket, silvery strands coating dusty flannel. Giselle licked her lips, the little silver bead of her piercing clicking across her teeth. Spread her legs for him and reached up.

“Please, it’s my birthday and I need you inside me.” He didn’t need to be told twice. Merle knelt between her legs and guided himself to her entrance, sucked in a hissing breath through his teeth at the heat of her. Her arms went up around his neck, her thighs to either side of his hips, and he sunk it home brutally and without hesitation. She arched her back up to meet him and cried out.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” The sound tipped him off but the sensation was undeniable; she was either coming or on the very edge of it already, her walls pulsing around him. “That easy?” He gasped. She dug her nails into the nape of his neck and cried out again and he felt her go off like a shot. “Y’ like your ass beat that much?” No reason or way to slow up; he’d only just gotten her started. He eased back halfway and buried himself back to the hilt. Groaned at the sensation of her still gripping his cock so tight and started up a staccato pace and gripped the blanket beside her head.

Each thrust had him grunting with effort and desire. After that first, easy climax she wrapped her thighs around him and arched her back, pushing her hips up to meet his. Unwrapped one arm from his neck and fisted the blanket on the opposite side of his own grip to get some leverage and gave as hard as she got, panting and then beginning to moan again. “You’re going to – I’m about to –” He clapped his hand down over her mouth and chased her orgasm down this time. Snapped his hips punishingly hard against hers, then groaned as her climax soaked his cock in a wet hot gush. Her screams were muffled but by no means inaudible and the charm of feeling her struggle was far from lost on him.

That sinful little mouth had gotten too close for him to keep it together. “Gonna paint your fuckin’ insides, girl, you ready for me to fill you up?” She nodded frantically under his hand and he closed his eyes tight and laid into her, jackhammering at that pace he always needed to get off. “Goddamn, Giselle!” Her knees hitched up to his sides and she arched her back to give him an easier angle. The building pressure at the base of his spine overwhelmed him and he held it in her deep as he came, rocking against her, and felt her peak one more time as his cock throbbed inside of her. When he let go of her mouth she was gasping, softly whimpering his name like a litany. Merle pressed his forehead to hers and held her like that for a long moment. Both of them were starving for breath, drinking one another in. When it got to be too much to hold his weight off her he pulled out and lay beside her, still gasping for air.

“So you like Daddy or Merle better, if we’re just making conversation?” It was gratifying to hear the note of breathlessness in her tone. Made him feel less like an old man for being so out of breath himself. He sighed again and nuzzled her neck, nipped it a bit. Giselle reached for the baggie and offered him the coke again, pouring it onto her hand and holding it up to his face when he nodded.

 _Good girl._ “Both. Either.”

“Well damn, Merle. This is the best birthday I’ve had in years.” She took a heavy sniff for herself on each side and snuggled up to him, easing the curve of her body into a spooning position against him. “I think we might be alone, now, I don’t hear them anymore.”

How shitty would her birthdays had to have been before this, for this to be the best one she’d had in years? He wrapped his bad arm around her waist and took a deep breath of her hair. “Think you’re right. Surprising, the way I had you caterwaulin’. Y’ gonna dip out?”

“I have time.” He could feel his come leaking out of her, slicking the curve of her ass against his softened cock. “You want to do this again, sooner rather than later?”

“Thought you’d never ask, doll.”

 _Fin_.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please let me know. I've had Michael Rooker on the brain for the past month or so; I'm working on a longer Yondu piece and may in the future write more Merle - he's certainly inspiring for this kind of thing.


End file.
